


Wanting You, Wanting Me

by Ragingstillness



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, I'm posting anyway, Mild Angst, Office Romance, brief self-hatred, can't tag too much or it'll spoil, probably no one other than me cares about this pairing anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 10:49:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16448462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragingstillness/pseuds/Ragingstillness
Summary: The birth of a romance so often overlooked between two people who just might be able to heal each other.





	Wanting You, Wanting Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlexiaBlackbriar13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/gifts).



Moira Queen did not stumble. No matter how many anxious, single-digit hours of sleep she had achieved every night for the past week. She refused to submit to lower heels or more comfortable shoes. If she was going into the company she would be in a sensible pantsuit and high heels.

    Her office on the 38th floor had never felt so far away, even with the assistance of the elevator. While it traversed the lower floors, Moira allowed herself to lay her hand against the cool metal wall, then swipe it gently across her forehead. Her eyelids felt like she had bricks tied to her eyelashes. Every time she blinked, she feared she wouldn’t open her eyes again.

    But now was no time to be tired. The merger was running everyone at the company ragged and she couldn’t afford to take a break just because she was a stockholder and executive.

    Thea had returned at about five two mornings ago, flopping noisily into bed. Moira was up doing paperwork and for a moment she’d considered going in and speaking to her daughter. Maybe Thea would at least let Moira tuck her in. But she couldn’t bear the disappointed expression in Thea’s eyes and the pull of the papers was a tempting escape. _Coward_ , Moira berated herself. Afraid of her own daughter. But at least she’d finished up the work.

    The elevator doors opened. Moira straightened up, disgusted at her own weak posture. She readjusted her purse on her shoulder and strode down the brightly lit hallway.

    Her office door was locked. She knew she hadn’t done so the night before and could only assume the janitor had taken care of it. Or maybe Walter did, her traitorous mind put in.

    Moira physically shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts away. Thea had made her opinions very clear on how she felt about Walter and her mother. In fact, it seemed to be one of the only topics that could return childish excitement to her eyes. And yes, they had been going places together recently. A dinner here, a quick lunch there. But that didn’t mean they were dating, much less in _love_ , as Thea insisted.

    She was a widow, Moira reminded herself. A very foolish widow who had lost her husband from the moment she first ignored the lipstick stains on his collar until she’d finally lost him forever to the mercy of the sea.

    She’d grieved him, terribly, for a year, but it wasn’t enough. She had been married to Robert for twenty years and known him for much more than that. Didn’t she owe him more time, more grief, before simply moving on, much less with a man he considered a friend?

    She was no saint either. She’d been unfaithful too and born a daughter from a union with a _different_ friend of her husband’s. Who was to say that what she felt now was just that same urge again? The one that had driven her into Malcolm’s bed for a night in the first place.

    Robert was dead, and she wouldn’t be cheating on him of all people, but it just wasn’t right, was it? To move on so quickly? To think she could be anything more than a cheater herself?

    No one deserved to deal with the baggage she knew she carried from her first marriage, least of all Walter. He was too kind of a man, always supportive, always loyal. And handsome too. He deserved the kind of woman who knew better than to break her wedding vows. He deserved better than someone whose hands were already so tainted from the seat she held on Malcolm’s perverse council. A man that strong, that beautiful, wouldn’t want someone like her.

    Thea was wrong to assume he was interested. At best Walter was a helpful friend, who cared about her transition from bed-ridden depression to returning to the world. He was likely just hoping to provide her with some social interaction.

    Moira opened the door to her office and stopped in the doorway. She blinked. Someone had definitely been in her office the night before and it wasn’t Walter or the janitor.

    The entire room was strewn with stray flower petals that had fallen off the one, two, _three dozen_ brilliant bouquets that decorated every flat surface available. If that wasn’t enough, a giant poster board was hung across the window. It read “MOM, KISS WALTER NOW” in big black marker.

    Moira felt a headache coming on. She didn’t know whether to feel proud of Thea’s dedication to something productive or exasperated by her over the top actions. It was a shame such beautiful flowers would have to be thrown away. She’d give them out to some of the undersecretaries and security guards.

    She set her bag down on the floor, as all of the chairs were taken. Moira was just reaching for the first bouquet when she heard a voice call her name down the hall. Not just any voice, Walter’s.

    Moira froze. Her eyes darted to the sign on the wall. She couldn’t let Walter see any of this.

    She stood up and turned away, only to see Walter walking towards her, his long strides eating up the distance. She could try closing the door, but he’d reach her first.

    Moira choose instead to step forward and meet him, hoping the distance would block the open doorway. But that presented another problem. She was practically toe to toe with Walter, the full force of his soft smile washing down over her face. Moira felt her breath hitch. Then she panicked. Please let him not have noticed. But the universe wasn’t that kind and if possible, Walter got even closer, laying a hand on her arm.

    “Are you alright, Moira?”

    Her name had never sounded better before it was said in his smooth British accent. His eyes searched her face the longer she didn’t respond. Moira’s weakened self control could only take so much.

    She ducked her head to hide her eyes and turned her shoulder to let his hand fall.

    “I’m fine.” She took a short breath. “You called my name earlier?”

    Walter somehow straightened his posture further. “Of course. The new offer has come in. The other board members have signed and all it needs is your approval. I saved you for last.”

    Moira raised her gaze. He was looking about anywhere but her face. She let his words warm her heart for a moment before squashing down the feeling. “Oh, that was quite considerate of you, thank you.”

    Walter cleared his throat and held out the file he had been holding under his arm. “You looked a little tired last night, I figured you needed the sleep.”

    Moira couldn’t stop her blush in time but with luck he would it for embarrassment.

    “Shall we take this to your office?” Walter made to step forward and just like that the happy atmosphere was gone and Moira was back in full panic mode.

     “No!” She blurted, before she could stop herself. She stepped back and to the side, blocking his path.

    Walter stopped short, almost bumping into her. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

    Moira nodded. “Oh yes, I’m fine. Surely I can sign it here.”

    Walter frowned. “It’s over 40 pages. Unless you’d like to stand here reading through them all I suspect you’d prefer a chair.”

    He made to step past her again and Moira matched his path. Walter’s eyebrows rose, and he huffed out a quiet laugh. As charmed as she was by the soft noise, Moira was only growing more nervous. Her legs were shorter than his and with every step they got closer to the door.

    “I can read it out here. It’ll do me good to stretch my legs anyway.”

    Walter gave a look like she was being charming and confusing at the same time. “Moira, you’re dead on your feet. I can’t force you to stay here.”

    He made yet another step. This time Moira had to lay her hands on his chest to get him to stop. He glanced at them for a moment and Moira took a second to marvel at how solid he was.

    Then his eyes were searching hers again. Whatever he saw there made the corners of his eyes crinkle up adorably. When he spoke, his voice was full of casual amusement. “Is there something in your office you don’t want me seeing?”

    Moira sucked one of her lips into her mouth. Did she dare to take the out? She stared into the distance and therefore missed the way Walter’s gaze had dropped to her lips for a second.

    “Yes,” she eventually said. “Thea, she left some of her things in my office. Combined with all of my paperwork, it’s a mess.”

    The best lies had an element of truth. Walter chuckled. “It can’t possibly be worse than mine.”

    Moira scoffed. “You are quite possibly the most organized person I know.”

    She was too busy laughing to notice Walter had been gently coaxing her backwards. Then something mischievous in his expression clued her in. She laid her hands back on his chest.

    “I see what you’re doing.”

    Walter smiled down at her. “Do you? It can’t be that bad.”

    And with that parting statement he pivoted on one foot and made to step around her into the doorway of the office. Moira would blame her actions on sheer panic later.

    Without thinking, she grabbed Walter’s arm and pulled him back. At the location they were in, this slammed his back against the wall next to her doorway.

    He squirmed towards the door again and Moira jumped forward to stop him.

    She had intended to lay her hands on his chest again, push him back and explain in serious terms how much she really didn’t want him to see her office and maybe they could sign the documents in his office.

    She would sign them there, take a short lunch, and the few hours of sleep she caught at her desk later would be filled with dreams of his happy smile.

    She’d continue to ignore her daughter’s indiscretions because she couldn’t deal with them and her own life at the same time.

    She’d continue to try and push down the persistent ache that demanded she mourn her son as she had mourned her husband, leaving her bed ridden and helpless for another five years.

    Instead her arms wrapped tight around his neck, she raised herself to her tiptoes, and then—oh, _oh_ , she was kissing him.

    Logic and self hatred screamed in the back of her head, but they were drowned out by the voice that was rejoicing in the clatter of the file hitting the ground.

    The voice only rejoiced more in how quickly his hands wound almost uncomfortably tight around her waist and lifted her right off her feet, kissing her back like they been reunited after some terrible ordeal.

    His lips were gently chapped, but the pressure of his kiss was perfectly modulated, sliding back and forth over hers until finally they slotted perfectly together. Any minuscule movement on her part was matched by him, refusing to let the connection go. Moira’s self-consciousness was wilting further with each gentle connection. The odd feeling of her toes not touching the floor was making her lightheaded.

    He was actually kissing her back. The most amazing man she’d ever met, and he was kissing her back. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. One of his hands slipped up to cup the back of her head, stroking her hair. She hummed into his lips at the feeling.

   They had to part eventually, as the biological need for oxygen asserted itself. And with air came reality.

    Moira felt like she’d been punched in the chest as logic returned to the forefront of her mind, berating her. It listed every reason this was an awful idea, how stupid she was to force a kiss on him in the first place, tempting suggestions that he’d probably only been humoring her.

    On any other day she would have given into that voice and gone home early for a good cry, but she had made the mistake of glancing up. None of her logic had any place in that moment. Not when set against the adoring, stupefied expression in Walter’s eyes. He was smiling at her again, but this one was wide and pleased. His eyes were glittering too, and his hands still hadn’t left her waist although he had set her back on her feet.

    He leaned back in and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her again, but he just set his forehead against hers.

    “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.”

    Moira couldn’t help it. She laughed and with that joy came honesty. “ _You’ve_ been waiting? I’ve wanted to kiss you for months.” Then she slapped her hand over her mouth. Walter chuckled.

    “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m much too happy to tease you.”

    “You’re happy?”

    “Of course. I had dreamed this would happen. If I worked up the courage, I’d finally ask you on a real date. After a couple of dates,” he shrugged. “Maybe I’d be lucky enough to get a goodnight kiss.”

     Moira laughed. Thea had been so right, how had she been so right? “Come here, I have something to show you.”

    She took his hand, missing his warmth the minute she moved, and tugged him into her office, closing the door behind them.

    Walter looked around the room. His gaze roved over the bouquets, his eyebrows raising higher with each extravagant blossom. Then his eyes fell on the poster.

    He stared at her then stumbled back into the doorframe, laughing louder than she’d ever heard him laugh. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. Moira could swear her heart melted in her chest; he had never looked so handsome.

    “As you can see, Thea was not unaware of my, erm, _affection_ , for you. She’s been pressuring me for months.”  Moira’s face was starting to hurt from how widely she was smiling but she couldn’t stop.

    Walter got his laughter mostly under control. He pulled her forward by her hand and wrapped her up in his arms. Oh. That was nice. Nice enough that Moira thought she wouldn’t mind feeling this way for the rest of her life. It was almost scary how quickly the thought reached the forefront of her mind and how true it was. With difficulty, she pushed away the fear.

    Walter pressed a kiss to her hair. “It’s nice to know I have Thea’s approval. I was thinking of approaching her before I asked you to dinner. It seems now I won’t have to.”

    Moira turned her head to meet his eyes again, grinning. “Oh she’ll still want to give you the shovel talk, believe me.”

    “I’ll make sure to look suitably cowed.” Moira couldn’t resist that grin. She got back on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. His skin was still warm from his blush and she couldn’t even imagine how red her own face must be. A thought struck her.

    “Where do we go from here?”

     “I’m not entirely sure. I imagine we’ll go as any two people go. A couple more kisses, a couple more fights, a couple more sleepless nights.” He paused. “We live.”

    A weight Moira hadn’t even known she was carrying lifted off her chest. “I like the sound of that. We live.”

**Author's Note:**

> Really no one probably cares about this pairing anymore but me. I've just always been oddly attached to these two. Their relationship is so wholesome in the course of all they weather. It's also a really interesting role reversal from the norm with a antihero wife and a good husband. I love how much they love each other.


End file.
